


Never Thirst

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Asexual Character, Community: ot3_promptfest, Cult of the Mushball Messiah, Flushed Romance, M/M, Podfic Available, Polyamory Negotiations, Prostheses, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Man, I don't know, I kind of figure we're peas in a motherfucking pod, you and me, Tavbro. The kind of chill motherfuckers as would rather pity half a dozen brothers and sisters than get a serious motherfucking hate on for even one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> Podfic by Rhea available here: http://amplificathon.dreamwidth.org/2017907.html

Gamzee Makara is the best matesprit you ever could have asked for. (In fact you wouldn't have asked, because you would have preferred not to draw the universe's attention to yourself, but a hypothetical you who was willing to take more chances might have, and he couldn't have gotten a better answer than this.) He confessed to you in the middle of a rap-off, laying down some freestyling so ill it was overdue for hospitalization—who even thinks of rhyming "red feels" with "last meals"? And you were totally off your game when you tried to respond ( _I've never liked anyone, as much as I like you, but filling buckets isn't, a thing I want to do_ ) but he didn't even mind either your weak rhymes or your disinterest in pailing. Being flushed for a motherfucker, Gamzee said, is about what's all up in your heart, not your pants.

And if it was that easy (up to then you'd been pretty sure it couldn't be, because just about everybody seemed to be hung up on the pants part) then you had your answer already: your bloodpusher's strictest beats were for your best bro Gamzee Makara, and you said so. You have been horns-over-heels stupid for him ever since.

Which is not to say that your life is perfect, because that would be a lie and also saying so would just make it inevitable that things would go wrong. It's just that things are easier to handle when you know you've got Gamzee to curl up on at the end of a rough night. He helps you get your legs off and slips into the recuperacoon first so you can lie kind of on top of him, and even though you were nervous about being naked together the first few times it's turned out to be fine: you've decided you like how his skin feels against yours and he hasn't tried to get you to touch his bulge or anything.

He pays more attention than most people think he does, too. At the start of the second perigee after you move into his respiteblock, one morning on the way to sleep he says, "You're getting a pretty bad case of the creakywobbles there, Tavbro."

"Oh, uh, I haven't, really noticed," you say, which is not actually true at all. You pay a lot of attention to how well your legs are working, because they need more attention-paying than your real ones did. The knee joint in the left one definitely feels looser than when you first got them, and it's a little worrying. "I wouldn't, want to bother Equius, about them," you add, because that's a lot more like true and you'd feel bad not telling Gamzee the truth.

Gamzee shakes his head. "Sure as shit don't take much to get that poor motherfucker bothered," he says. You start to relax, because that makes it sound like he understands the problem, but then he pauses before he can actually climb into the sopor, frowning at you so his face paint creases. "But that don't mean I wanna see you all creaky and breaking down, neither." He gives you this sad barkbeast expression, really serious, and you'd swear you can see in his face how much he pities you, and it makes something inside you twist up tight and warm.

"Okay," you say, because you don't want him to worry and it'll be easier to be brave if you're doing it for him. "I'll go, uh, tomorrow, and see if, he can fix them."

"Motherfucker's bark is way worse than his bite, anyway," Gamzee says, throwing one long leg over the edge of the recuperacoon. "Soon's you all up and frown at him, he calms right the fuck down."

You chew on your lip uncomfortably, not sure about how much to say. "I think, though," you say as you brace your arms and push, lifting yourself up so you can slide into the sopor with him, "that he likes when you do that, because of your blood, since, Equius cares about the hemospectrum, a lot." Maybe too much, you think, but maybe you just think that because you're at the bottom of it, so for you the spectrum is just another reason for other trolls to push you around. Probably for bluebloods it's a different story.

Gamzee shakes his head, slow and smiling. "Man, you know I don't got the head for all that spectrum noise," he says. "Gotta have all the motherfucking colors up in there, and they're all sure as shit special. Miss any one of them and we don't got the whole fucking rainbow no more, and it's a straight-up _crime_ to do that to a miracle like the motherfucking rainbow."

"It would be nice if, more people, thought about it like that," you say. Maybe they will, with Feferi in charge. You feel a little better about hoping for things lately than you used to.

The sopor is warm as you sink into it. Gamzee holds onto your waist to keep you steady until you're into the 'coon enough for the sopor to take your weight. You feel instantly drowsy, between the warmth and the tangy, familiar smell. You let yourself sprawl across Gamzee's chest, your head on his shoulder with your horns carefully out of the way and one of his long arms wrapped loosely around you. There was something else you meant to say about Equius, you're pretty sure, but the thought is dissolving into the warm slime around you, and you let it. This is good. This is fine.

* * *

You wake up in the evening with Gamzee petting your mohawk backward, like he's trying to remind it to stand up. You try to make a purrbeast noise and lean into his hand and you don't sound very convincing but he laughs, easy and warm, a sound you think you'll never get tired of. "How's my favorite purring miracle this evening?" he asks.

You take stock. "Happy," you report. This is the case much more often than it used to be. Gamzee kisses your forehead right at your hairline. You retaliate by kissing the knob of collarbone at his throat. After this there is no choice but to escalate to a full-scale battle of sloppy, drowsy makeouts with some hardcore cuddling thrown in for good measure. You could probably go on like that for a while except that his digestive sac growls. You laugh, poking him in the belly. "Time for, the miracle of breakfast, sounds like."

"Damn if you don't have the best motherfucking ideas, bro," Gamzee says.

When he climbs out of the recuperacoon you can see that his bulge is swollen, before you look away in a big hurry, but he doesn't mention it. You both towel off and shrug some clothes on, and you settle into your four-wheel device instead of bothering with your legs first thing in the evening, wheeling after Gamzee as you go to investigate the nutrition preparation block.

Probably nobody will ever pry Gamzee away from his slime pies, but he does also share some fried oinkbeast slices with you, so you figure you're a good influence on him. You need help with things like self-confidence and he needs help with things like nutrition, and you have all this pity to shore up each other's weak spots.

After breakfast you head back to your respiteblock to get your legs on, and Gamzee comes with you. He lets you do your own thing here unless you actually ask him for help, which you were kind of pleasantly surprised by the first time—it's like he thinks you can still do stuff for yourself even though you're like this. He sits on the floor and just chills with you while you get your legs fitted back on, and when you stand up you only wobble a little.

Gamzee unwinds himself from the floor, like a puppet being pulled up by the strings, all limbs working easy and smooth like he doesn't even have to think about it. "We on about ready to go get our pester on with our muscle bro?" he says.

"Um?" you say, which is not your brightest moment.

"Didn't seem all cool for me to motherfucking get up in your business about it and then not go keep you company," Gamzee says. "Ain't like a trip to the mediviscerator's any more fun when your legs are squeaky instead of squishy, right?"

"Oh, uh, right," you say. That's right. You promised you'd go ask Equius about your left knee tonight. "It's really, nice of you to offer that, I think. But I'm not sure, if he would think so, on account of, he gets upset, when anyone reminds him, that we're together."

Gamzee shakes his head. "You know I ain't all about getting my motherfucking frown on, bro," he says, but he's doing it pretty well all the same, "but I know where my heart's at and there ain't no way I'm letting any motherfucker up and tell me he don't approve of the color of your flush."

You are flushing right now, actually, because it still leaves you fluttery and sort of confused when he says it that clearly. "You're, the best, I think," you tell him. "And I know that, I'm not, high enough on the spectrum, for him, but." This part is hard to say but important, especially if Gamzee's going to come with you. "But also, I'm pretty sure that, he pities you."

He goes quiet for a minute, nodding slowly in that thoughtful way that you know means he's thinking about something pretty hard. "That poor motherfucker," he says.

The world lurches a little. You open your mouth to say something to that and then don't know what to say so you just close it again. The silence is really loud.

"Shit, babe, what's the matter?" Gamzee says, and just like that he's got you in a hug, arms tight around you, cheek pressed up against the bare side of your scalp. "You look like I just up and kicked your bitty lusus. Tell me what's the bad noise, bro, cause I don't ever want to motherfucking hurt you."

Your bloodpusher gets back on the job and you take a deep breath that smells like greasepaint and slime, and you lean into Gamzee's warmth. "I'm okay," you reassure him. "It's just, when you said that, I thought," does it make you a jerk to say it? Does it sound like you're accusing him? You don't want to be accusing him of anything. "I thought, it sounded like, you pitied him too."

Gamzee nuzzles your scalp a little, which is going to make a mess out of you and out of his paint, but you can worry about that later. "Man, I don't know, I kind of figure we're peas in a motherfucking pod, you and me, Tavbro. The kind of chill motherfuckers as would rather pity half a dozen brothers and sisters than get a serious motherfucking hate on for even one." He hugs you harder, so your ribs make little crackly noises. "I guess I got some pity up in here for most of these crazy fuckers we know, but I can shut the fuck right up about that if it's going to put the hurt on you. I don't never want to mess you up, babe."

"I think, you should keep holding on," you tell him, because if he does that you can cope with this idea and—and of _course_ it makes sense, when you think about it, when Gamzee has always seemed like he was trying to get everyone to get along, trying to make them all go easier on themselves and each other. Of course he's got enough pity in his heart for any six ordinary trolls.

"You got it, my brother," he says, his voice all soft and dark with intensity, comforting. "If you wanted the motherfucking stars, I would pull those shiny motherfuckers down to hand 'em to you, don't you ever doubt it."

You shake your head, just a tiny bit because otherwise you'll smack him in the head with your horns. "I don't want, anything that big," you say. You like him _so much_. "I just, want to stay with you. Even, if you pity other people."

Gamzee nods, running his nails over your back, this really soothing slow scratching. "Don't even motherfucking worry about that," he says. "I can do that for you all easy as breathing."

"Okay," you say. "Okay, that's good." You lean into him for a little bit longer until it really sinks in, until you feel it all through you, the sureness that Gamzee isn't going anywhere. Only then do you pull back enough to get steady on your own two robot feet. "Let's go and, uh, get my knee, looked at."

"Hell yes," Gamzee says, taking your hand.

* * *

You all live closer together than you used to before that game you can only halfway remember, so the trip to Equius's hive doesn't take all that long. It's definitely more of a walk than just getting around at home, though, and you can feel the way your left knee is looser-jointed than the right one. If you stumble or it breaks down, though, Gamzee is here to catch you, and that thought is really nice.

Then you _get_ there, and you have to knock on the door, even though you'd like to just turn around and go back home. Equius has never been mean to you, exactly, at least not mean in a personal way, and he did make your legs, which was nice of him, and when you look at it like that you ought to be more comfortable with this. It's just, he's a little intimidating.

But you knock anyway, and you can hear the clop of hooves from inside before Equius's lusus comes to the door. "Uh, hello," you manage as he looks at you with one bushy eyebrow raised and his mustache twitched in a question. "We're here because, one of my legs is creaky, and I was hoping, Equius could take a look at it, if that's okay." You've never been sure quite how well other trolls communicate with their lusii—you can commune with yours, after all, which is something most trolls can't do—but you figure it's better to give him too much information instead of not enough.

Equius's lusus nods, really serious, and opens the door further so you can come inside. He shows you into a receptionblock and then disappears deeper into the hive. Everything is so fancy that you feel a little weird sitting on the furniture, but Gamzee just flops down on the couch like he's right at home, and after a minute of worrying you sit down carefully beside him.

You hear the creaking on the stairs before you see Equius come in through the door, and oh, is it your imagination, or does he really get bigger and more muscular every time you see him? His shoulders are almost as broad as your horns. "Nitram," he says, "I understand you are having some trouble with—" and then he stops all at once and his posture changes and everything. "Excuse my impertinence, highblood," he says to Gamzee. "Aurthour indicated that Nitram required assistance with his prosthetics, but I did not realize you had accompanied him."

Gamzee waves off the apology. "Ain't nothing to excuse, my strong brother," he says. "Pretty sure I ain't never seen you be what any motherfucker might call rude."

"I-I most respectfully disagree," Equius says, and you can see sweat starting to break out on his face. "But I am grateful for your forbearance."

"I try to be a generous motherfucker," Gamzee says. "Seems like we could all up and use a little more of that miracle some days." He beckons. "So 'stead of getting your worry on about me, how about you come on over here and examine a brother's creaking robo gams?"

Equius nods once, sharply. "Is that—"

"Sure," Gamzee interrupts him, and he stops talking immediately. "It's a motherfucking order, bro." You've been mostly watching Equius, because you generally try to pay attention to the most dangerous thing in any given room, but now you look over at Gamzee—that didn't sound like a giving-orders voice at all. It sounded like an everything-will-be-okay voice, gentle with pity. "Get your fancy posterior over here and give them joints a thorough motherfucking examination so I don't have to get my harsh on with you."

"As you wish, highblood," Equius says, and you look back at him because he sounds funny, too. He kneels in front of you and wipes his hands on a towel before he reaches out to take hold of your legs. "Nitram," and he sounds almost normal again when he talks to you, "what seems to be the problem?"

"It's, uh, my left knee," you say, and you fight the urge to cringe a little because you feel like you're criticizing his work and you don't want to make him mad, you really don't. "It feels, uh," and you're pretty sure the frown he's making right now is a trying-to-be-patient face but it's still scary.

Gamzee pets your back, gentle and slow. "Help a motherfucker out, Tavbro," he says. "Our bro here might work miracles with nuts and bolts and shit," and wow, Equius's face turns really blue at that part, "but give him a motherfucking hint where to start, yeah?"

"Right, um, sorry," you say. "I just, didn't want you to think, I was being critical, since, these legs work really well, and I'm glad that I have them, so, thank you."

"You are welcome," Equius says carefully. "It was an excellent chance to challenge my aptitude with robotics."

You realize you have never seen Equius _not_ being careful with everything and everyone around him. It's like he got used to the idea that he was too strong to touch people, and then decided that meant he couldn't afford to make sudden movements or talk to anyone forcefully, either. You wonder if this is what Gamzee pities about him. You're pretty sure this is a bad time to ask.

"Well, I am, really glad, that you accepted the challenge," you say. "The problem right now is, that is, the thing that brought us here, this evening, is that, my left knee, the joint feels loose, compared to the right."

Equius nods. "Did this change suddenly?" he asks. "Perhaps after a fall or an impact?" He curls one hand under your left thigh and lifts it slightly, his other hand wrapped around the ankle so he can bend your knee joint back and forth. His ears twitch like he's listening to the sounds it makes. Can he tell what's wrong just from that?

He asked you a question. "No, uh, nothing sudden," you say. "More like, it got worse slowly."

"With any luck, then, it should be fairly straightforward to repair," Equius says. He glances from you to Gamzee. "I will still need to take this piece down to my workshop so I can remove the leg's outer casing to access the mechanism. If you like, I could have Aurthour bring you some refreshments while you wait."

"Or we could all come and keep you company," Gamzee says. "Don't want a brother to be all busting his ass by his lonesome."

Equius hesitates for a second and then bows his head. "Whatever you wish, highblood."

Even though that sounded totally polite and friendly, you're pretty sure that Equius doesn't think he's allowed to refuse. And you know what it feels like to not be able to say no to somebody, even if it was really different, the way it happened with you, and you find yourself maybe a little bit pitying him yourself. The next thing you know your hand is on his arm, which surprises both of you and is probably because of Gamzee's influence making you more brave than you ever used to be. "It's okay if, you'd rather we stay here," you say. "It's not like, you'd make Gamzee upset, if you want to work by yourself."

"Bro's right," Gamzee agrees. "Don't want to up and mess with your chill when you got all them tricky little parts to work your fucking magic on."

"I appreciate your concern," Equius says, still really serious. "But it is...not necessary." He makes this face that might be a smile and might just be a wince, only it doesn't stick for long enough for you to be sure. "I have built a number of robots while Nepeta was visiting; if I can bear her distraction attempts, certainly I can bear yours."

"So, uh, do you, want the company?" you ask. Because he didn't really answer.

It looks like he has to think about it for a minute, and you're almost ready to apologize—for asking, for bothering him, for bringing Gamzee along—when he finally says, "I believe so, yes."

"Motherfucking miracles, bro," Gamzee says, getting up from the couch. "You know how hard it is to get a straight answer out of this motherfucker?"

Equius's cheeks turn blue. "It was never my intent to be difficult, highblood," he says.

"It's, okay," you say, because you can't seem to help yourself. "You know he's, just teasing, right?" You look at Gamzee as he takes your hand to help you up. "Tell him, you're not mad."

"That isn't necessary," Equius insists. "If the highblood wishes to correct me—"

"Naw, bro, it's cool," Gamzee says. "Tav's right, I ain't trying to all up and put the harsh on you." He reaches out with the hand that isn't still holding yours and paps Equius's cheek gently. "Us motherfucking clowns, man, we just mess around, right?"

Equius doesn't move at all until Gamzee pulls back his hand, and then he nods. "Thank you," he says, and his voice is doing something you don't quite know how to make sense of. "Please, this way."

You have this weird feeling like you almost just auspisticized for them, except it's really obvious that what they feel for each other is pity, not hate, and you don't think that auspisticizing pity is a thing you can do.

"My workroom is below ground," Equius says. He looks back at you. "There is a rather steep set of stairs, I'm afraid."

"I'll, be careful," you promise. He's warned you about stairs before. And you _can_ manage stairs with the legs he built for you—a lot better than you could with your four-wheel device, that's for sure!—but you have to take it slowly and really pay attention.

Equius goes first, and then you follow him, one hand on the wall as you negotiate each stair. You do wobble and almost lose your balance once, and in your flailing you put a hand on Equius's shoulder. He stops right away, not moving at all until Gamzee helps you get your balance back, and you realize that he does that to keep from hurting you by mistake. Your blood pusher feels a little funny.

The workshop is mostly pretty neat, which doesn't surprise you. Equius cares so much about keeping things in order. (The pile of smashed up robots in one corner is still unnerving, though.) "You may use the bench I installed for Nepeta's visits," Equius says, pointing you toward a couch along one wall. "I am certain she would not begrudge you."

"Hell no," Gamzee says, "she's always been a cool kitty."

Equius looks sort of pleased at that, you think. Are you actually paying attention enough to be able to figure out his expressions? You're so used to just thinking of him as a solid wall of disapproval and frowning, it's a little weird to be able to see differences. When you look at Gamzee, he's watching you, and his smile is dreamy and distant, but that doesn't always mean he's not paying attention.

"Take a seat, Nitram," Equius says, "and I will see what I can do to repair your prosthetics."

You sit down, and you can see from the way Gamzee's hands flutter that he wants to help you with your legs this time. He still stops himself, though, and you feel soft and grateful inside for the way he can pity you so much and still not try to take care of you more than you want him to. You detach your left leg and Equius takes it from you, every movement perfectly controlled.

"Thank you," he says, which is kind of, wow, because you're way low on the spectrum for him to be this polite to. He looks over at Gamzee when he says, "I will try not to keep you waiting long."

"We ain't all up in a motherfucking hurry, bro," Gamzee says. "You don't got to get no rush on for us motherfuckers."

Equius winces a little bit, probably because he wishes Gamzee wouldn't say motherfucker so much. "Thank you for your patience, highblood," he says, and takes your leg over to his work table.

Gamzee sits next to you on the couch, and you lean on him. It's a weird feeling, being off-balance with only one leg on, but it sort of seems like it would be more weird to take the other one off for no reason. Having no legs and not having your four-wheel device, when you're not even in your own hive...you sort of burrow into Gamzee a little for reassurance, and he throws an arm around you and hums into your ear. Equius has his back to you as he spreads things out on his work table, but you still see the moment when he holds too still.

You try to sit up a little straighter. "I think maybe," you tell Gamzee, really quietly, "we should, um, not do that, so much, when we're here."

His fingers rub little patterns on your shorn scalp, and that does feel really nice. "Not getting your chill on so good, huh?"

"I, I guess," you say. You watch Equius studiously ignoring you both, and you feel.... "It's just, I think, I understand what you were saying, about having pity, for other people."

Gamzee sits up straighter, and when you look at him he's beaming at you like you've just gotten him the best wriggling day present ever. "Then we got this shit most of the way to hammered right out," he says. "All we gotta do now is get our motherfucking strong brother to feel the groove."

You try to picture Equius feeling the groove. "That, uh, could be, the hard part," you say.

Gamzee doesn't look deterred. You've always thought that was sort of wonderful, the way that things just don't scare him. Sometimes it makes you worry, but most times it makes you happy for him. "Just gotta believe in miracles, bro."

"That's, pretty easy, with you around," you say, and wow, that's cheesy enough to be something from one of Karkat's movies, but Gamzee just nods.

"Damn right," he says. "We got the start of something motherfucking righteous brewing here."

You nod. "If you, want to lay the beat down," you say, "then I'll, always be, ready with the rhymes." That's actually pretty cheesy too, but you wouldn't take it back. The two of you fistbump to seal the deal.

It doesn't really take long at all before Equius is bringing your leg back to you. "A fairly simple fix, indeed," he says. "The addition of a full body-weight load put pressure on one of the bolts at a poor angle and caused it to come loose. I have adjusted it to compensate, but you should be aware of the possibility that the right leg will also malfunction similarly."

"Okay, uh, thank you," you say as you take your leg carefully from Equius's hands and settle it back into place. "I'll let you know, if the other one, has problems."

"Bro, you are utterly bitchtits as a mechannihilator," Gamzee says, getting up and reaching out to put a hand on Equius's shoulder. They're almost the same height. Even if you hadn't had your accident, you probably would never have gotten that tall—high-spectrum trolls tend to wind up a lot bigger than low-spectrum ones. They'd be sort of intimidating together if you didn't trust Gamzee so much.

"Highblood," Equius says, "may I ask you a question?"

"Course you can, bro, just so long as you all remember to use my name," Gamzee says. "You can ask as many motherfucking questions as you like."

Equius doesn't say anything for a minute, and you climb carefully to your feet. You can tell you're on the edge of important things happening. "Gamzee," Equius says.

"There you go, motherfucker," Gamzee says, nodding.

"Gamzee," Equius says again. Working up his courage, you can tell, and your blood pusher does another little twingy thing. You're not even sure you should be watching this. It feels so personal. "You have been...surprisingly affectionate toward me this evening, and while I am certainly grateful to be found worthy of your attention, I am also...confused as to your intentions. You are doing this in the presence of your—" he looks at you and he's hesitating, and you try not to let yourself hunch your shoulders too much because Gamzee thinks you're good enough and you're doing your best to believe him lately "—your matesprit, and while there is certainly precedent for trolls using a third party to provoke jealousy in a quadrantmate, and while I would never complain at any use which you chose to make of me," wow, yeah, you feel weird standing here and listening, and Equius is blushing really hard, "I do not believe that is, in fact, your intent."

For a minute Gamzee just stands there and stares at Equius, and you don't much blame him. The way Equius talks is complicated enough that you have to pay pretty close attention yourself, and you're not full of sopor pie. You watch Gamzee's lips move as he unravels all that stuff Equius just said. Then he laughs. "No way, bro, that's for fucking sure. I ain't the kind of motherfucker to want to put my flushbrother through that head game noise." He grabs Equius by the wrist and takes a step toward the robot pile. "Come on all down here, let's get a pile on and do this all motherfucking proper," he says. "You too, Tavbro, you're all up in this too."

You can see how confused and uncomfortable Equius looks as he follows Gamzee's lead, and that sort of makes it easier for you. It's like when you have to be really calm around an animal to commune with it, and you are _never_ saying that out loud because Equius would probably kill you. So you don't say it, but you do follow, and your new knee works great as you cross the room and lower yourself down onto the pile. Equius is in the middle of it, with Gamzee sitting next to him and holding him down with one hand on his chest, like a pouncebeast keeping a kitten still.

"All right, here's the way this motherfucker goes," Gamzee says. "Me and Tav have a damn good thing going and I ain't all about messing with him, cause I got about as much pity for my Tavbro as any one motherfucker possibly can." You blush right to the tips of your ears, because you still aren't entirely used to the idea and he's so straightforward about it. "But I get all to feeling bad for you, too."

Equius glances over at you like he wants to know how you're taking that news. You try to smile encouragingly. He looks at Gamzee again. "You know I already have my pale quadrant filled," he says. "Which...I thought was the case for you as well."

"Shit, yeah, Karkat's a ragey little miracle of a moirail," Gamzee says happily. "I ain't talking motherfucking pale feelings with you, bro, and it ain't just me, either." He looks at you. "Any time you want to all up and add something, you just feel motherfucking free."

"I just, wouldn't want to, step on, your groove," you explain, and Gamzee nods. He can appreciate keeping the flow of a metaphor going. "But yeah, uh, I can, um, that is, I have some things, to say." You look at Equius. Talking to him is so much scarier than talking to Gamzee. You think to yourself, he's scary enough that almost everyone just keeps away from him, and that must be lonely. "So, this is maybe, too forward, for me to say, since, I don't know you, very well, and also, I'm not fancy, or important, or anything, but I think that, um," you think Equius is looking impatient so you try to hurry, "if it didn't, make you mad, then I could, pity you, too."

Equius looks from you to Gamzee, and you can see his eyebrows pull together in a frown. "But...you have each other," he says.

"And maybe we could have you, too," Gamzee says. He is afraid of nothing. It's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, you're pretty sure. "Or fuck it, you could have us, if you want to up and put it that way, that's pretty bitchtits too." He's petting Equius's chest, and Equius's shirt is slowly soaking through. "Pretty sure you're all flushed for me, babe."

"You are ridiculous," Equius says hoarsely. "Yes."

Gamzee just nods. "And how hard would it be to get your pity on for a sweet little motherfucker like Tav? He's motherfucking adorable, look at him."

Equius grimaces, baring broken teeth. "Even if I could—even if I do admit he is pitiable," he says, and you're sort of surprised, because really you just figured Gamzee pities you because he's Gamzee, and everyone else just thinks you're pathetic, "still this is not—I cannot simply—" He lifts his hands like he's trying to get free and then just puts them down again.

You reach over and take Gamzee's hand, lifting it off Equius's chest. Gamzee watches you do it with a little dreamy smile like he's surprised, but sort of pleased with you. "It is, uh, kind of a big thing, to just ask somebody."

"Indeed," Equius says, sitting up now that Gamzee isn't touching him anymore, "as Nitram says. Even had I considered him in such a capacity before now, this proposal would still be...." He pulls a fresh towel out of his sylladex and wipes his face. "Unorthodox at best." He says _unorthodox_ the way Vriska says _boring_ , which is to say, like it is the worst thing that ever was.

"Man, _that's_ why you wanna shut this miracle down?" Gamzee says. "Cause it ain't what every other motherfucker is doing? I don't know if you all up and noticed, but we ain't exactly ordinary motherfuckers, any of us."

You think that's a pretty good argument, honestly. Of course, you also don't think that troll traditions and ideals are all that ideal, and maybe it would be nice to do things differently—more differently than you already are, you mean, because being matesprits with no pailing is already pretty unusual.

"E-even if this were what I wanted," Equius says, his voice strained and shaky, "and I can't deny—that is, this is exceedingly improper, but—e-even for you, highblood, there are _rules_ —"

"Now listen up right here, because this is the righteous word of the motherfucking messiahs, brother," Gamzee says, leaning forward and really focused. Equius goes totally still and watches him, and you do too, a little nervous, because Gamzee doesn't get serious like this very often. "When you got rules all up on you that get to bending you out of fucking joint and cramping your fucking style, the answer to that riddle ain't to twist yourself up like a motherfucking pretzel. The answer is to _burn those motherfuckers down_ and live how your heart tells you to."

Equius swallows hard enough that you can see his protein chute move. "I would not wish to argue with you, highblood," he says. "Gamzee."

Gamzee looks at you, and you think you know why: if you say things, Equius won't automatically take them as orders. "Can I, uh, ask you a weird favor?" you ask Equius. He raises an eyebrow and you realize how silly that sounds now. "I mean, uh, not weird compared to, the rest of this conversation, just, a little personal."

"I would be extremely surprised to hear you ask for something more personal than a three-way flushed arrangement," Equius says.

"Okay, uh, that is, a good point," you say. He might have been teasing you just now. Maybe. It's hard to tell. "Can you, uh, take off, your glasses? Only, it's hard, to read your expression, with your eyes hidden, like that."

Equius hesitates for a second. You glance at Gamzee, but he's just sitting there quietly, not moving at all, just waiting with a dreamy smile on his face. Like he trusts you. Equius takes off his glasses. His eyes are already turning blue—he's so much closer to being a real adult than you are. "Better?" he asks.

You take a deep breath. "Okay, uh. I guess, the question is, then, what _does_ your blood pusher tell you?" You think maybe you are a little in awe of anyone who can sort out people's black feelings for them, when you're this intimidated by red ones. "Because Gamzee is, pretty clear on it, and I am, uh, still not sure about things, but willing to try it, and that leaves, what about you? If Gamzee could, burn the, um, rules down, I mean?"

"Speaking hypothetically," Equius says, looking from you to Gamzee, and oh, after you've practiced reading his emotions with his shades on, it's like they're crystal clear once he takes the shades off. "Would I need to have a definite answer immediately?"

"Shit, no," Gamzee says. "You always gotta let a brother have take-backs on the heavy stuff." He shrugs. "You all up and know I'm the kind of motherfucker as takes things one night at a time."

Equius chews on his lip with his broken teeth, and a tiny trickle of dark blue blood runs down his chin. "Then hypothetically I would be in a position similar to Nitram's: uncertain but willing to experiment."

"That's twice in one night you gone and actually said what you motherfucking wanted, brother, I think we might be getting somewhere," Gamzee says. He looks over at you for a second, and you can read him pretty well, and he's checking to make sure if you're okay, so you nod. "Next order of business," he goes on, "is that I think I'm all up and going to not-hypothetically kiss you, if nobody here has any motherfucking objections."

"No objections," Equius says, but of course he wouldn't complain, no matter what Gamzee said. Gamzee looks at you, and then Equius looks at you, too, and you realize that means it's up to you to say yes or no. Gamzee's expression is curious, like he just wants to know what your answer is, but Equius—Equius looks hopeful. He's not just saying yes because the hemospectrum says so, you're pretty sure.

"It's okay, with me," you say, and then you are watching your matesprit lean forward to press soft, slow, pity-kisses to somebody else's mouth, and a tiny part of you is really scared about what this means but most of you is listening to Rufio, which is to say, a figure of speech that means you aren't worried. You do trust Gamzee to care about you as much as he says he does.

And apart from the tiny scared part, the rest of you is really sort of moved and thinks this is really sweet to watch, the way Gamzee cups Equius's face in one long-fingered hand, the way his thumb brushes the line of Equius's cheekbone, the way Equius closes his eyes and lets his shoulders finally relax for what is probably the first time you've ever seen and maybe the first time in sweeps, honestly. Equius makes a little helpless noise in his throat and your blood pusher goes sort of wobbly with pity for him, because you recognize that sound and it means _I never thought anyone would be this nice to me_.

When Gamzee sits back, the first thing he does is look at you, and when you smile at him he smiles back like—like a thing you don't have a good metaphor for, not yet. But you'll have to work on it, because you want to see that face a lot and you want to have words for it and you want to kiss him yourself, and that last part you can do right now, so you do, leaning across Equius's lap to press your mouths together. You know he's watching, and that should be weird, should be at least a little uncomfortable, but it's nowhere near as bad as you thought it would be.

You can't help looking at him after the kiss, and yeah, he was watching, is still watching, his eyes flickering from your eyes down to your mouth. "Oh," you say, feeling silly but hoping neither of them will mind too much. "If—if that's okay," you add.

Equius nods, just barely. "I said I was willing to experiment," he says.

So you kiss him, too, while he holds perfectly still so he doesn't hurt you, and Gamzee says, "Damn if that isn't the most beautiful motherfucking miracle I ever did see," really quiet like he doesn't want to scare you off.

You can't say anything right now because your mouth is sort of busy, but you think you'll have to remember to tell Gamzee later: you're not scared of how this will go, not now. It's new and it's different and you don't really know what to expect, not yet, but for once you really do believe that everything will be okay.


End file.
